Today we reached the symbolic end of our eastward trek from Nevada. Our journey this morning from a rain-soaked camp in Bridgewater, New Hampshire to the sunny blue skies of Boothbay, Maine this afternoon marks the last few miles we will travel away from home this summer. Any further miles we travel will be toward home. At least that's what it says in the fine print. Still to come tomorrow noon is a two-hour harbor cruise to see the area from a nautical perspective, followed by another seafood dinner somewhere in the charming village of Boothbay, a tiny berg of impossibly narrow streets that lies just up the coast from Portland, Maine.
We didn't do much photography this morning, as once again the elements were against us. But by noon, as we approached the village of Lebanon, Maine, the sun began to make a small appearance so I shot the truck next to the church where we had lunch.
After lunch, driving was mostly dedicated to thrumming north on first the Maine Turnpike 95, and then Interstate 295, as we watched for our opportunity to get off the heavily-traveled superhighways, and onto Route 1 that promised more scenic vistas and a slower pace to be able to enjoy them.
We arrived in camp just after 3:00 p.m. and immediately inquired about the shuttle that the Good Sam camp book had described. "Leaves at four," the elderly lady running the office said.
I asked the lady if I could get our propane tank filled before we drove to our camp spot. She told me no problem. Then I asked if we could pay for two nights, the propane fill, and the shuttle ride in one transaction. She told me no problem.
"Just one thing," she said.
"What's that," I asked.
"We don't take credit cards. Cash or checks only."
"Well," I said, "I have to park the rig and extend the slides before I get to the check book. Mind if I come pay when I get on the shuttle?"
"No problem," she said, "I'll open the gate so you can drive around back to the propane tank."
And that's all the harder it turned out to be. In less than 45 minutes we filled the propane tank, set up the rig with all the cords and hoses, walked back to the office to pay for everything, and got right on the shuttle into town. There was not one minute left over.
When we were dropped in Boothbay, we asked the driver where to find a good lobster dinner, and he told us where to go. Then we walked over to a booth on the waterfront and bought our tickets
All these things went as smooth as silk. We found a shop for tomorrow's t-shirt purchase. We found the parking lot for the RV. And we reappeared at the restaurant at dinnertime for our much anticipated lobster dinner.
What we didn't count on was the prompt closing down of all the shops at 5:00 p.m. So, when we had finished dinner and reappeared on the street, almost nothing was still open. To add an extra layer of complexity, the fog had started to roll into the harbor making the whole town look a tad dreary and cold.
"Okay," I told Concetta, "we needed to walk off our dinner, AND we needed to keep warm in the process." She agreed, and that's just what we did, at least for the next thirty minutes. By that time we had accidentally stumbled onto a store that wasn't closed, and it just happened to be a combination notions and bookstore. Well, I didn't have any particular need for any notions, so I headed right for the second floor and the books.
So it was that the stipulated seven o'clock hour for our shuttle ride came all too quickly and I had to give up my perusal of the rows and rows of cool books long before I was ready. Concetta was glad, since she says I already have acquired twenty books on this trip. I dispute twenty. I think it's more like ten.
Anyway, we talked to the shuttle driver about the morning run and he told us it leaves at 9:00 a.m. That's perfect for us since we have to be at our harbor cruise about 11:40 a.m., which gives us
Sorry for the cursory account this evening, but I started much later than usual and it's already getting close to bedtime. So, until we meet again, I wish you Happy Travels!
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